I Will Wait
by MyOwnZiva-isms
Summary: Peter finds Neal searching through his office for something and loses his composure inevitably forcing Neal to make a break for. But did Neal really run? And who is this woman who keeps popping into their life only bringing pain and destruction. Major Neal whumpage. Not a death fic. rated T to be safe. NO SLASH. My FIRST White Collar Fanfic.I do not own white collar..yada yada yada
1. Chapter 1

Neal flipped through Peter's desk, quickly rummaging through everything he could get his hands on. Blood pounded in his ears and his heart raced, thumping so loud he swore Jones could hear it all the way across the building. Hell, he bet Peter could hear it back at his house while he was eating lunch with El. He felt sick and wrong. This was not what he had bargained for. He was invading the space of the only person who he trusted. But he was pressed on by this uncontrollable power over him. It was driving him mad. Peter was a part of this. His piece fit into the puzzle somehow and he just had to know where. He knew Peter had stolen the Music Box. But how? Why?

The hairs on the back of his neck rose to stand on end. He glanced up into the glass and what he saw in the reflection made his heart stop and his blood run cold. He stood slowly, closing the desk draw.

"This isn't what you think it is." He stammered knowing full well it was what Peter thought it was. He visibly cringed waiting for the onslaught of verbal abuse and threats about prison that he knew was about to come his way. But nothing came. He peeked open one eye. Peter was standing in the door way. A stricken look frozen on his face. Neal whished he would do something. Say anything. He even wished Peter would hit him.

"Get. Out." The voice was barely a whisper, cold and steady. Neal heard the undertone of hurt that crept into the edges of his friend's voice.

"Peter, I can explain-"

"Go home Neal." The voice commanded. Neal shuffled to the door. Peter moved to let him pass. Neal hesitated.

"I'll call you when, if, I figure out what to do about this." Neal quickly walked to his desk, keeping his head down. His chest hurt, it was constricting. Holding his heart in a standstill. He grabbed his coat, fumbling to put it on, not even having the heart to put his hat on despite the cold, snowy New York winter. He glanced back to see Peter siting at his desk head in hands, Dianna standing over him. He wiped tears as the elevator doors shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter dropped into his chair and placed his head in his hands. _Some things will never change_, he reminded himself. He heard a soft knock and looked up to see Dianna standing in the doorway.

"Does he know?" she asked meaning did he find anything. Her voice soft and sympathetic.

"I don't think so yet." He replied.

"When it's about this, Caffrey isn't in his right mind." She said trying to sooth her boss. "It's his drug of choice." At that moment his phone let out a piercing beep. He fumbled through his pockets until he found it.

"Shit, he's run on us!" Peter grabbed his coat and ran out of the building.

Neal exited the building, taking a right hunching his shoulders for his long cold walk home. He was punishing himself and not allowing himself to call a cab.

"'S-cuse me sir, could you tell me how to get to the Statue of Liberty?" Neal looked up to see a man slightly larger than him standing in front of an alley way holding a map and looking inquisitly at him. A camera hung around his neck. Neal trudged over, blowing heat into his hands. He leaned over to get a better look at the man's map when, WACK! His feet where kicked out from under and a hand propelled his head into the bricks of the alley way. He fell, lights clouding his vision but he scrambled up again as fast as he could, intently trying to make the doubled figure of a man turn into one person before he lunged at him again. This resulted in a swift round-house kick to his chest that sent him sprawling backwards. He fell, bounced once before his neck whipped back slamming his head into the pavement. Alarm bells fired into his head.

"Pet'r" he gasped and all his muscles relaxed releasing his hat into a dark corner of the alley way as blackness enfolded over him.


	3. Chapter 3

(Peter)

Peter ran out of the building ignoring the stares of the people in the lobby. He stopped when he hit the street looking both ways trying to fathom which way Caffrey went. Dianna was right behind him and she pulled his phone out of his hand.

"Look. Where his signal was last picked up before it was cut." She pointed to the phone. Peter grabbed it out of her hand and turned to the right quickly walking and pushing through the clumps of people on the sidewalk. He glanced up to see a black van running over trash cans as it sped out of an alley way. His brain spun at the abnormality of it all. He ran forward knowing that he had no chance of catching the van. He remember to catch the lenience plate number. 467923. He bent over to catch his breath and Dianna caught up to him.

"Pencil. Paper." he gasped and waited for her to pull them out of her jacket. "467239. Wait maybe 467293 or. Oh crap." He huffed and puffed. Dianna quickly wrote down the numbers and waited for a minute. He stood up pacing. His hand in his hair.

"Do you think he stole it?" she inquired.

"I don't know. I just don't know with him anymore." He sputtered still trying to put the pieces together.

"Let's go check out the alley, boss." Dianna suggested, leading the way. What she saw then made her mind whirl as she saw the story of what had happened. Blood coated the wall and pavement with streaks that led back for a way before abruptly stopping with a small pool. She stood there unable to look away.

"Boss you might want to see this." She said to no response. She turned to see Peter holding Neal's bloody and crumpled fedora. A shocked hurt look on his face.

(Neal)

Neal stirred. He groaned his head pounding. His lips were dry and blood dripped down his collar. He tried to move his arms but nothing happened. Next he tried lifting his legs but they too were unable to move. Fighting back panic he focused and tried to sit up ignoring the pain shooting everywhere. Again he was unable to move. He laid back down and tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't help it. Silently he lay there. Tears washing away the grime from his face. His body shuddered with sobs. _Oh god. What have I done? _Hours later, after all the tears were gone from his body and a solid numbness lay over him like a fog. He felt something come through. He grasped the idea and held on for dear life. It started to recede in his weary mind. _No! No! Think! _He clumsily fought for his mind and his life. Then it came relief flooded through his body. He could feel something…Leather and metal… his mind was slow and he chugged away at the meaning of these things. _Metal and leather. Metal and leather. Metal and leather._ Then he got it. Straps! He was held down. That was why he couldn't move. Neal relaxed and closed his eyes. The tears came again and he shook. Finally his body calmed and his breath became normal as he fell into a deep sleep.

(Peter)

Back at the office, Peter plugged the license plate into the database and let the computer chug away at finding any matches for any of the numbers. He called a meeting in the conference room.

"Top priority is getting Caffrey back. If he ran, we have already caught him once. So all teams on this right now-"There was a knock and Jones stood in the doorway. His look told Peter to go outside the conference room.

"Forensics report came back. All the blood is Caffrey's."

"All of it?"

"Yes." Peter walked into his office and sat down.

"God there was so much blood." His computer let out a ping. He glanced up. Three matches had come up for the plates that had the numbers he had entered. One of them stood out like a sore thumb. Vincent Adler.

(Neal)

He awoke again with a start. Again he tried to sit up. A reminiscent of a bad dream still in his mind. Again he was unable to move. Then it came to him. This was no bad dream, it was real. He felt rather than saw the presence of another person in the room.

"Good to see back among the living Nick Halden. Or should I say _Neal Caffrey_?" The sneer in his voice was prominent and sent shivers down Neal's body.

"Hello Vincent." His voice was cold but broke at the end from the pain.

"You know I always knew you were trying to play me. But I thought… Humor me... and let you spend all your money back on me. It was very amusing. But after I fled, I heard of your real reputation as Neal Caffrey and I thought hmmmmmmmmmmmm he could come in handy someday. And yes, yes you have come in handy. Well not yet but I assure you, you will be handy. I have some jobs that well let me just say I don't have the time or the desire to do myself. Yes, yes I can see the defiance in your eyes. But you will comply. And yes, yes you will not be able to cry for your daddy that FBI agent that has such a bad taste in clothing." Neal's temper flared with the last retort.

"I will never help you." He spat.

"Oh yes I assure you, you will. But it might just take some persuasion." With that Adler whipped out a small pocket knife. "Just remember you can yell UNCLE at any time." He smirked and dug the knife into Neal's arm.


	4. Chapter 4

(Peter)

Peter stood at the head of the conference room relaying everything Jones had just heard him to the team. A strange feeling came over him and he thought of the young Caffrey smiling. Then a sharp pain overcame his entire body. He hitched in his breath and the pain started to subside. Slowly he came back to the conference room to find his entire staff staring at him like he was about to keel over and die. His stomach sank. Taking a deep breath he continued debriefing the team knowing that something awful had just happened.

(Neal)

Neal screamed. The pain was overbearing and each time it got worst. Adler sang as he worked over Neal. Sometimes brief chuckles passed under his breath when Neal squirmed or cried out. Every hour or so Adler would stop and ask Neal if he wanted to say uncle and start playing a better game. One that was more fun. Each time Neal would spit back an insult and Adler would resume working. As the room grew darker, Neal's voice began to waver until finally he could say no more. His vocal chords completely worn out. Finally after the pain began to ebb into gentle waves and Neal was floating in somewhere other than the present Adler stood up.

"That's enough for today I s'pose." Adler left the room much to Neal's relief but came back shortly with something that had small wheels and rattled. A prick on Neal's hand and made him turn his head slowly to see Adler putting a needle into the back of his hand.

"Wha-"Neal slurred hoarsely. Pain exploding out of his throat.

"Now, now just stay still this won't hurt. But I just can't have you dyeing on me now can I? So here is some blood. Yes, yes I know you're blood type so you can't die from this either. And I also supplied you with some antibiotics." Neal groaned. Wishing that he could just be done with it. He wished he could just die on will. Besides Peter was so mad he probably wouldn't come looking for him anyway. If he cared he would've been here by now. He had the anklet right? Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. There was no anklet.

More footsteps entered the room.

"Neal, I'd like you to meet Dr. Bailey. She'll be taking care of you tonight so you can't go off and die. I have to go now though. I come back soon though, don't you worry. Now night, night sleep tight. Be good kids." Neal herd the door shut and a dead bolt clang. Then something was dragged in front of the door.

The woman sat down silently where Adler had been and pulled out a needle.

"I'm just gonna stich you up now OK Neal?" Neal's stomach turned sour as he couldn't respond to the question.

(Peter)

"Come on. Come on." Peter urged the computer. "Show me something." He had spent the night profiling Adler trying to see where he might have stowed Neal away. It was proving difficult since he had dropped off the grid a while ago and hadn't popped up until now, when he bought the van. He knew time was running out and he had to get to Neal quick. Him losing all that blood left him very little time. The room spun a little and he focused on something else. Something, anything that could bring Neal home.


	5. Chapter 5

(Neal)

Neal sat in the darkness for what seemed like forever. His head pounded and his thoughts were slow and thick like his tongue, plastered to his mouth. He could not sleep and he could not die. He was suspended in nowhere. Limbo between places. He faintly heard the door open and the doctor leave. It had been a long time since he had last felt her roughly pulling on his skin, sewing it closed so the blood could not drip and leave his body, as he so desperately wanted to. He waited in suspense and slight resignation. He waited to see the sickening face looming over him and keeping him suspended in this _place_. A thousand times over he apologized to Peter and swore he would never betray his trust again. A thousand times he hated himself for putting himself in this position in the first part. A thousand times he told himself he deserved this. And I million times he wished to _die_ already. His eyes brimmed with tears and the left his body like rats jumping from a sinking ship. He thought and wished and cried until there was nothing left, just the beating of his heart and the darkness.

(Peter)

Peter sat in his office feeling disheveled and hopeless. It had been 36 hours since he had last seen Neal. 35 and ¼ of an hour since he had seen Neal's blood. All that blood. It was physically impossible for Neal to be alive. All that blood.

He snapped out of the trance and whipped his face with his hands. Wetness had coated his cheeks and dripped down his chin. He could not stop them as he could not make Neal appear out of thin air. _Shut up Burke this isn't helping Neal any_. He reprimanded himself and forced his eyes to focus on the computer screen in front of him. His phone vibrated loudly on the table. He picked it up and looked at the message with disinterest and despair. Peter did not recognize the number and when he opened the message he quickly sucked in his breath.

If you want Neal alive. Meet in his favorite place. Alone. He will be there.

-VA

Peter grabbed his coat and briskly walked out of the office. He turned towards the right. Tracing his steps back to Neal's apartment. His phone chirped again. He pulled it out disbelieving. That was Neal's anklet GPS ringtone. A pulsing cursor was over the park a few blocks from Neal's building. Peter picked up the pace.

Once in the park Peter quickly went to the bench next to the violinist statue that he knew Neal and Kate loved. Here he sat until he noticed a figure slouched a ways away.

"Neal?" he called to the broken figure. He stood up striding over cautiously. He noticed a small movement and he picked up the pace almost running over.

"Neal? Neal!" he got close enough to see the man's face. It was Neal. His heart picked up a beat.

"Hey budd-"He was cut off midsentence by a slam to the back of his head that knocked him out cold.

(Neal)

A person came into the room but Neal couldn't see who it was. He felt his "IV" move a little and he cringed. Slowly his vision became blurry and obscure. Then pure blackness. He welcomed it. Thrilled to be away from just limbo.

Somebody was shaking him awake.

"Neal! Neal!" the voice was faded but slowly became louder and louder before he opened his eyes. A figure was standing over him. The voice was somehow friendly and he recognized it.

"P-P…" he rasped out. The figure's features soon became clear. He kept trying to form words but no sound came out. "No. No" he formed the words and somehow they broke clear of his destroyed throat. Barely a whisper. "No…"

(Peter)

Peter came to while being dragged down the hallway. A person was holding him, arms looped through his armpits and allowing his feet to drag. Once they saw he was awake he dropped.

"Get up." The man spat at Peter. Slowly he clambered up and steadied himself. "Walk." The man commanded again. Peter trudged to a door that was securely fused to the wall with a long metal bar. The man hoisted the bar and opened the door and shoved Peter in so forcefully Peter crashed into the wall. He backed up dazed and took in his surroundings. A table was placed in the middle of the room. It was presumably concrete and was covered in this syrupy red liquid. Slowly his stomach churned as he identified it as blood. He look further to see the figure laying on top of the table. It seemed small and forgotten. He ran over. _Neal_. He looked horrible. A sheen of sweat lined the man's forehead and his body was covered in dirt and blood. He cupped Neal's head in his hands. There was no response. Peter looked down for a moment to regain his composure. In his line of vision he saw Neal's arm. All along it were long marks that were hastily and sloppily sewn together. He looked down the rest of Neal's body to find the marks all over. His stomach churned and he backed into the corner to throw up all of the coffee and cheap fast food he had eaten in the past few days. Feeling slightly better he returned to Neal noticing the IV placed in Neal's arm. _So he's alive_. Relief flooded over him but not for long.

"Neal! Neal! Come on buddy…Neal!" finally the younger man woke but what worried Peter more was that Neal was distressed and unable to form any words.


	6. Chapter 6

(Neal)

Peter was standing over him and Neal not do or say anything. Fear threatened to choke him as he battled to keep his mind positive. Peter seemed somehow different, he couldn't place it. Maybe it was the despair in his eyes as reality hit him that they would most likely not get out of here. At least not alive. Maybe it was the gentleness with which Peter clung to him. He could tell that Peter was mentally accessing him. Seeing how bad it really was. To be honest Neal himself had no idea to the extent that his injuries were.

Neal opened his mouth to speak again. No words came out so he stopped and really tried. It took his sluggish mind a while to actually be able to make words.

"Help…Me…" he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain and tried again to finish his sentence. "Get…Up…" He saw the light bulb go off in Peter's eyes as he understood what Neal needed.

"OK Neal, just hold on. I am going to get you out of here. There's only a few straps. One step at a time. We can do this." Peter spoke trying to sooth Neal and reassure himself.

(Peter)

Peter stood over Neal trying not to scream at the desperation he felt. He stood there unable to think or do anything. Where should he even start? He was standing there dumbly trying to fathom what do when Neal started to move his lips. No sound came out. Peter bent over him trying to listen.

"Help…ME…" Peter almost fainted in agony. It was so pathetic the way Neal said it that it tugged at his heart strings. He was so caught up that he almost missed what Neal said next, his eyes pinched in pain.

"Get…Up…" Peter almost jumped. Neal was giving him something to do. He could focus on that. He could focus on doing what he could not trying to stop what he couldn't control.

"OK Neal, just hold on. I am going to get you out of here. There's only a few straps. One step at a time. We can do this." Peter held his breath as he fumbled with the straps. He got a few done, coating his hands in Neal's blood that was seemingly everywhere. As he walked around the table, he noticed a small wheelie stool. It was the only object in the room that was not covered in blood. His blood ran cold when he thought of who sat there and what they did when they were there. He used his foot to push away the stool and started to pull at the strap that held Neal's chest down. His arm bumped something that slid back and made Neal strain against the straps in pain. Worried Peter jumped up. Behind him was a bag of blood and clear liquid hanging with tubes that led to Neal's hand. It was just like what you would see in a hospital.

"Neal? Is there a doctor here?" He tentatively asked. The younger man hesitated and the nodded his head very slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?!" Peter almost yelled, now unsure that he should be letting Neal get up and walk around. "I am going to go get them right now and make sure you are OK." Neal's body shook and tried to shake his head no. His lips moving furiously. This worried Peter. "Shhhhh shhh its ok. I get it. I won't let them hurt you." Peter murmured. Trying to get Neal to calm down again.

Peter finally got the last strap off from Neal and the young man tried to sit up, gasping in pain and stuttering. He rushed over again to the other side of the bloody table and helped his friend stand, before Neal cried out and sagged, Peter catching him and lowering his body gently as it crumpled to the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

(Neal)

Neal was vaguely aware of lying on the floor. A form was hovering over him and he lashed out. Fear constricting his chest. He heard a mangled cry as he hit his target and a slight curse. He tried to push himself back away from the person. His mind escaping and clouding his thoughts of the knife being drawn down his side, cutting through his flesh as though it was nothing more than thin air. Neal writhed on the floor trying to yell but only a pathetic moan escaping his lips. The figure again came into his vision holding him down which only made Neal fight all the harder. Again and again his fists made contact with the man over him and stifled grunts were the only response. Finally the figure let go of Neal before sliding back out of his vision. Neal tensed ready for another attack and tried to curl his body tightly to minimize the damage. He felt his arms being pinned down, held close to his body, painfully close. He wriggled and squirmed trying to break free to no avail. Finally he gave up out of complete fatigue and resignation. After a few long minutes, he heard a voice calling to him urgently.

"NEAL!" Neal abruptly snapped back to the present, walls painfully clear and saw Peter's face over his and realized that it was Peter who had restrained him. Regret and remorse flowed through him.

"There you go. See it's just me, Neal. Nothing to be afraid of." Only then there was something to be afraid of.

(Peter)

After gently placing Neal on the floor, Peter had started to notice something was off with Neal. His eyes were slightly glazed over and fixed on a point in the air which did not seem to be part of this world. He knelt down over his younger friend, worry pulsing through his heart. Neal started to move a little and Peter felt a quick blow to his abdomen. Neal had just kicked him. Peter reeled back in confusion ignoring the spike in pain as Neal began to thrash on the floor and moaning in agony. Peter rushed back to the side of his friend, careful to avoid and areas that Neal's feet could reach. He grabbed Neal's shoulders trying to bring him back to the present and out of the prison of his mind. He was again caught off guard as Neal began to punch his chest repeatedly. Peter did not let go for Neal's blows were seemingly like a feeble two year olds and did not inflict any pain other than Peter's worry at the state of his friend. Peter realized that Neal could inflict damage on himself in this position and quickly let go before reattaching himself behind Neal and pulling the man into his lap holding him with all his strength as Neal fought against him. As the fear began to ebb out of Neal's eyes, Peter began to call to him.

"Neal. Neal! NEAL!" He practically screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls and his companion opened his eyes, focusing them on Peter. Remorse filled the man's face and Peter felt tears start to well up.

"There you go, see it's just me, Neal. Nothing to be afraid of." But Peter knew that there was indeed a lot to be worried about as he noticed blood starting to flow freely out of Neal again. They had to get out of there and now. After Neal relaxed, Peter stood up and stretched, working out the kinks in his back and trying to release some stress. He felt a small tug on his pant leg and looked down to see a pathetic Caffrey trying hopelessly to sit upright. He couldn't help but smile at the feeble attempts the conman was making. He bent down and lifted Caffrey slowly, gently bringing him to the wall so he could lean against it for support. Neal's eyes were dark with determination and he didn't utter a sound. Peter turned around again to survey the room. Finding nothing he turned back to Neal who was no hopelessly slouched, leaking more blood all over the place. The conman caught his eye and flicked his eyes up quickly several times. Peter, taking his hint looked up to see a small window a ways above the ground. Just high enough for Peter to jump and pull himself out. It was completely out of the question for Neal who could not even sit up straight.

Peter turned and sat next to Neal, leaning against the wall.

"I can't do it Neal. I can't leave you here like this." The conman looked at him urgently. Peter didn't need him to talk to know what he was saying. Peter had the best chance, the only chance of getting out and getting help. Peter sighed knowing that Neal was completely right. He felt a squeeze on his hand and looked down to see Neal telling him to leave, _actually _he thought, _screaming at me to leave if he could talk_. Peter stood up.

"I really don't like this idea. But you have a valid point." His voice wavered. "Just don't leave on me ok?" Peter's voice cracked and he saw that Neal understood what he really meant. Then the conman opened his mouth.

"I…will…wai-"his voice trailed off and he winced. Peter knew that if he was going to go he had to do it now. Before things became irreversible. He turned, ran a few steps, jumped and pulled himself up. Smashing the window as he went and exited the room. Cool air greeted him and he breathed deeply trying to get the smell of blood out of his nose.


	8. Chapter 8

(Neal)

Neal watched Peter leave the room and his gut clenched wishing that he didn't have to stay here and wait. The darkness again began to make Neal afraid and he wished he could get up and move. Or at least push himself into a more comfortable position. As he sat in the dark he contemplated how long he thought it would take Adler to notice that Peter was gone. Neal's mind once again started its abnormally slow way of thinking of nothing while trying to think of something. His thoughts were brought to an abrupt stop when the door banged loudly making him cringe and cower. In came Dr. Bailey screaming in rage. She turned to the man that Neal had thought was Adler but now Neal was not so sure. His mind was slow and he concentrated on trying to figure out what was going on. As he thought about the pieces, he realized that the man wasn't the one in charge it was the woman. _Or maybe she's going to help me escape!_ Neal watched in horror as the woman pulled out a gun, aimed it at the man and shot him once in the chest and once execution style dead in the middle of the eyes.

He tried to smile as she turned to him showing that he was happy to go along with here plan as long as he got out of here. He waited to see the welcoming look cross her face as she knelt to help him stand. But it stead she marched over and slapped him across the face with the gun, still hot in her hand.

"YOU ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING!" She screamed at him as he knelt, confused and crippled against the wall. She stormed back to the table and grabbed the restraints that were left behind and hurled them at Neal. The first couple hit the wall just above his head, metal clanging loudly. The next one hit him square in the eye, sending pain shooting through his face. His eye was squeezed shut and he felt blood dripping down his face. He almost fainted thinking that his eyeball was spilt open. He reached up, using the last of his strength and felt a nasty gash. Not in his eye but above and below. He relaxed and lay there feigning death hoping she would notice. Somehow he felt that she still wanted him alive. He made his breath come in quick gasps and slowed them to shallower long breaths. It worked he heard her walk over and put her fingers against his neck to find a pulse. Then he reacted. His eyes flew open and he sucked in a breath while he lunged at her grabbing the gun out of her hand and standing pointing it at her. She screamed in frustration and lunged at him. Neal pulled the trigger and her body came to a stop her eyes staring at him in confusion before she fell and lay still. Shaking, Neal wavered as he heard shouting.

"FBI!" He looked up to see Peter running over before he fell gasping as the wall of pain hit him and his knees crumpled and he hit the floor.

(Peter)

Once Peter had left the building he found that he was exactly one block away from the FBI building. _The safest place is usually closest to home_ he thought, disgusted. He walked into the lobby, all eyes immediately on him and he demanded backup immediately. Then he called the ambulance and led them to the old warehouse Neal was still inside of.

Peter barely took enough time to let people suit up in bullet-proof vests before he started to barge into the building. Room by room he cleared, calling out to Neal. Agents were fanning out in front of and behind him also calling to each other. Gunshots soon pierced the air making everyone stop in silence for a minute before ciaos erupted.

Peter ran to the place where he heard the shots. A man lay dead outside the door that was swung wide open. Neal stood looking confused, holding a gun at a still woman lying on the ground. A pool of blood starting to form under both of them. He ran over to Neal as the man crumpled, gun skirting across the room.

"WE NEED AN AMBULANCE IN HERE!" Peter knelt holding Neal close. "See, I came back. You're safe now. This is all over. It's all gone." He murmured to Neal who was standing there eyes looked shut in pain. He felt a slight nod from his partner and the grip on his arm tightened. Peter noticed a small line of sweat lining Neal's brow.

"You need to open your eyes now Neal! Come on!" Peter encouraged. Neal's eyes fluttered open, one not quite making it as it had started to swell. He swore that Neal had even flickered a smile. His mouth opened but Peter cut him off.

"Save that for later." He urged as paramedics rushed over. Peter reluctantly let go of Neal, knowing he was in good hands for now. Upon standing he saw another team of paramedics around the lady on the floor.

"Is she alive?" He asked the agent standing closest to him.

"It seems that way." He said and relief washed over Peter. Neal wasn't a murderer even if he was trying to protect himself.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Peter entered Neal's apartment holding a pile of frozen dinners.

"Neal?" He called. Wondering where he was the lights were off. "I went to the hospital and they said that you had discharged yourself." Peter called waiting for a reply as he set the dinners on the kitchen table. Curious he walked over to the bedroom. "Neal?" He flicked the light switch and light flooded into the room. A small figure lay huddled in the corner holding a blanket and shaking like a leaf.

Peter quickly was at Neal's side.

"Hey buddy. You ok?" Two large blue eyes peeked up at Peter. They were so round and filled with fear that Peter wanted to reach out and erase all the memories in Neal's head. Peter just leaned over and pulled Neal into an extensive hug. "It's ok. Shhhhhhhhhhhh it's all done with now." Slowly the shaking stopped and the young man attempted to stand. Wincing all the while. Peter jumped up and grabbed his arm, pulling it over his shoulder. Neal moaned and tried to step forward but lost his balance and sagged. Peter noticed how small his frame was and how sunken in his eyes seemed. Neal was so light. He lifted keeping his arm around Neal's middle and guided him to the bed where he lay Neal down and covered him. Peter stood to go to the kitchen to make some tea when an icy hand grabbed his arm. He turned back to Neal and saw the fear in his eyes. Man there was just so much _fear._


	9. Chapter 9

(Peter)

Finally, it was after Neal's grip on his arm had relaxed and he had fallen back onto the plethora of pillows and into a deep sleep that Peter stood up and crept slowly into the kitchen. He sat at the table and put his head in his hands. The fear rippled through his body and he felt it plaguing him like a disease that ate away at his soul. He hadn't slept in days, since the nightmares had started. He knew, he had El and could only imagine what Neal was going through all by himself. He shuddered as the image of Neal lying bloody and helpless on that concrete table. Peter had no idea what had happened before or after he was stuck in that god-awful place, but it was bad. Bad enough that Neal hadn't refused Peter's help.

A few hours later, Peter heard movement in Neal's room. After a few loud bangs and stifled noise Peter drew his gun from its holster and slowly walked towards the dark room. He pushed the door further open making sure to keep his gun pointed up.

"Neal?" He called. Nobody was in the bedroom but Peter noticed that there was a light in the hallway leading off of the bedroom. He crept slowly over and pointed his gun around the corner before following, still hearing banging. He walked down the hall to a door that was cracked open. Peter again slowly opened this door. Peter stood there aghast as Neal hopped up and down back to him trying to put a pair of suit pants on. He fell against the wall with a muffled "ouch!" before turning and buttoning his pants. Peter stood there and closed his mouth when he met Neal's gaze.

"Um. Are you ok?" Peter asked baffled. Neal nodded yes, his vocal chords still in disarray. He held back a chuckle. Neal blushed and looked down. Finally Peter could not hold the laughter in and he bent double laughing. When he finally stopped his saw Neal had finished dressing and was looking at him with confusion.

"It's just that... Ha-ha…I thought- he-he- that you- hooo- were being ATACKED!" Peter erupted in giggles yet again. When the second fit stopped his looked up to Neal's sheepish smile. Neal then pointed at Peter's gun and motioned to his pocket asking Peter to put it away.

"Ready for some dinner?" Peter smirked and led Neal out of the closet. (HAHA NEAL AND PETER CAME OUT OF THE CLOSET!) Dinner consisted of frozen soup made by El, some hot mint tea and Neal typing out a conversation on his laptop.

I can go to work as soon as I can speak.

I like this soup.

How is El?

The conversation was sparse and Peter finished lamely with

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Neal nodded his consent and walked over to the couch. Soon he was asleep and Peter got up to call El.

"Hey hun. Neal's out of the hospital and he doesn't look like he is in a good enough shape to be alone in a room by himself so I am going to spend the night. Love you." Peter left the message and was soon wondering why El didn't pick up. _What if she was kidnapped? Maybe she was in a crash. What if she's in the hospital?_ Peter was about to call the office and tell them to find El when his phone rang.

Sorry I am at a big dinner. Can't talk. I think it is good to be with Neal because I don't think you will survive the night alone either. Love you.

El

Reassured Peter lay back on the couch and fell asleep. A few hours later he was jolted awake by a loud thud. Neal had fallen off the couch, still asleep and was thrashing around, moaning. Peter jumped up and restrained Neal hoping he wouldn't reopen any of his stiches.

"Neal. Neal!" Neal thrashed harder and started to murmur. Peter did everything he could to wake Neal but nothing worked. Finally Neal screamed.

"NEAL! WAKE UP!" Peter yelled. Neal jumped up and Peter found him huddled in the corner faster than he thought was possible. The wide eyes were back and Neal seemed hollow and disconnected. Peter felt horrible and stayed where he was not wanting to corner Neal.

"Neal, come on it was only a dream. Nothing to be scared of. It is all ok now." Peter stood slowly. "Can you focus on me Neal? Can you see me?" there was not much of a response. Peter walked slowly over to the light switch.

"I'm just going to turn the lights on now ok?" He thought he saw a slight nod and he flicked the switch making all the shadows disappear. Neal visibly seemed to move out of the corner so Peter walk over holding out his hand.

"Let's get you into bed ok?" A cold shaky hand connected with Peter's and he led Neal to the bedroom where Neal promptly laid down, pulling the blankets up with him. Peter turned to shut the light off and heard a whimper from Neal. He turned and Neal was shaking his head no as fast as he could.

"Ok then. The lights stay on. Peter flopped into a big chair next to the bed. "I'm here if you need anything. He said and tried to fall back to sleep. Soon both of the men were asleep. This time though Peter had the nightmares.


	10. Chapter 10

Today was the day Neal Caffrey was going back to work. Neal tried to look like it was no big deal but inside he was jumping up and down like the 5 year old he was. He put on one of Byron's suits that he had never worn before and again noticed that the fit was still a little big. Combing his fingers through his hair he did another check in the mirror before exiting his enormous closet. Peter was waiting for him in the kitchen with a small cup of espresso and a bemused look on his face.

"Wouldn't want to look to perfect for work now do we?" Peter teased before herding Neal out the door. The ride was silent and Peter was noticing how quiet the normally chatty Caffrey was. (Get it chatty Cathy- chatty Caffrey) They pulled up to the FBI building and parked. Once inside, Neal was met by cheers and confetti. Peter noticed that his CI seemed slightly too surprised and the smile seemed just a little too happy. Silently kicking himself, Peter reminded himself of how much the kid had gone through. It was probably just culture shock or something of that sort. After the short party, Peter ushered the team into the conference room to review their next case. It was an art theft and Peter thought it would be right up Neal's alley and a great first-case-back and was only too disappointed when Neal seemed to not pay any attention during the entire meeting.

Peter made eye contact with Neal and was suddenly aware of how pale his complexion was. He called a brief recess afraid that he would have to clean up vomit from the carpet.

"Hey, Neal are you OK?" Peter inquired after everybody else had left the conference room. "You seem a little out of it today. Is this too much?" Neal stood and Peter noticed how he wobbled a bit.

"Yeah I'm fine I think I just need a little bit of wat-"Neal was cut off as he collapsed, his body crumpling to the floor.

"NEAL!" Peter yelled as he knelt on the floor. Neal had started to shake and his eyes were rolled back in his head. "SOMEBODY CALL AN ABULANCE!" Peter practically screamed as Jones and Dianna entered. Peter pushed all the chairs away so Neal could not hit anything. A frothy spit was oozing out of the corners of Neal's mouth.

"Oh, god, Neal you HAVE to pull out of this one!" Peter muttered. He felt people pulling him away from Neal. He fought back trying to stay. His vision tunneled and he saw that man. The man that had dragged him down the hallway, lifting Neal onto a stretcher.

"NO!" Peter screamed and the grip on his arms became tighter. He fought harder until his feet came off the ground and he could no longer to anything. A weakness came over him and he relaxed, sagging to the floor. "No." his whispered.

"Peter- PETER. You have to let them do their job. Peter." Dianna's voice broke the fog. Peter was shaking his head going back and forth. He just kept saying no over and over and over. Dianna squatted in front of him.

"Peter look at me. Neal is going to be fine. I am going to drive you to the hospital now to see him. OK?" Her voice was stern and it wavered a little with fear. He saw her glance up to someone, presumably Jones, behind Peter. "I'll be ok with him for now. Just meet us at the hospital in case OK?" Peter ran a hand through his hair through his hair. He felt Dianna helping him to his feet. She leaned over and he felt her next to his ear as she whispered.

"You need to get yourself together to walk through these people. You need to look sane." She handed him a tissue. "Fake being sick if you have to." Peter held the tissue to his mouth as he walked through the office and out to Dianna's car.

"Peter what the hell was that?" Dianna asked as soon as she pulled out into the road.

"Neal. It. They. Kidnapped him." Peter stuttered unable to grasp the right words.

"Peter those were medics!"

"No. No. I saw him. I knew him. He was _there_."

"You'll see when we get to the hospital. Neal will be there and he'll be fine." Dianna tried to reassure her boss but nothing worked. Peter became distant and lost in another place and Dianna was fairly sure that he was back in that warehouse with Neal.

"Peter." She said softly. "I think you need some help." But Peter didn't hear her or he was lost in thought. Dianna decided to leave it at that because they were arriving at the hospital. Peter was out of the car before Dianna could cut the engine. He practically ran into the building. Jones pulled in right behind Dianna and he gave her a questioning look.

"He thinks it's the same people that kidnapped him and Neal." She explained and they trudged together into the hospital. Peter was talking to a nurse at the station and the conversation was beginning to escalate.

"I'm a federal agent in charge of him. If he is here it is against the law to withhold any information."

"I'm sorry there is nobody by the name Neal Caffrey here."

"Try Nick Halden or- or-"Dianna cut him off.

'I'm terribly sorry. Do you have any John Doe's that came in in the last 20 minutes?" Dianna asked sweetly.

"No I am sorry. Now please get out of the waiting room. And find some help for." She trailed off as Peter glared maliciously. Dianna almost had to drag Peter out of the waiting room.

"You said he would be here!" He practically screamed in the parking lot. "You said he would be OK!" Jones stepped forward ready to intervene. But Peter shrugged him off.

"And stop treating me like I am insane!" He yelled. He picked up his pace and dropped into the driver's seat in Dianna's car.

"Peter wha-"Dianna questioned as Peter started the car.

"Mozzie taught me a few tricks." He said and he closed the door and drove off. Dianna was bent over, patting her pockets for any holes and trying to find the keys she knew Peter already had.

"Damn it Peter." She said. "We need to get back to the office and find Neal and Peter." And she and Jones jumped into his car and sped back to the office.

Neal came to in an ambulance. But something felt off. There were three people sitting in the back and none were EMTs. He tried to sit up but was strapped down to stretcher. One of the men noticed this and yelled to the front.

"Hey, boss guess who's up." Before sitting back down and glaring at Neal. A female voice came from the front of the ambulance.

"Give him my regards." Neal panicked. He knew that voice.

"Will do boss." The man stood up and slugged Neal right in the face and then once in the stomach. "Boss says hi." The voice came from the front of the van again.

"We need to make one quick detour." The ambulance did a sharp U-turn and Neal groaned feeling nauseous. After a series of quick turns, the ambulance slammed to a stop.

"Time to take him on a field trip." The female voice again. Neal tensed in fear as the men the back began to undo the straps holding him down. They pulled him up by the collar and threw him into the door of the ambulance to make it open. Neal cried out in pain as he felt his shoulder dislocate. A cloud of dust rose when he hit the ground. Again he was hauled up and marched forward. Neal kept his head down trying to avoid eye contact. When the group pulled him to a stop roughly, he looked up. Peter stood across the parking lot from them. There were no cars.

"Do not move!" the woman commanded. Peter put his hands up. "You will listen to our rules or we will kill your friend. One. You do not try to shoot us. Two. You do not try to get a picture of my face. Three. You will not follow us. Four. You will not try to find us. And if you do this is what will happen." She threw Neal to the ground and held up a hand, giving a sign to the muscle behind her. They began to punch and kick Neal who was curled up in the fetal position on the ground. Blood started to pool and stain the dirt. Neal moaned and curled himself even tighter and finally the kicking stopped.

"Comprende vou?" The voice called and Neal faintly heard Peter's response before he succumbed to the blackness.

(Peter)

Peter pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse that had held Neal and him a few months earlier. An ambulance was parked and he watched as Neal fell out of the door and was hauled up. He vaguely remembered hearing the woman's demands before Neal was stopped all over. Peter couldn't watch. His stomach was twisting in knots and he almost threw up. He turned in time to see Neal's eye's glaze over and his body start to shake violently. Peter stepped forward but the five people pulled guns on Neal. He watched sick as Neal shuddered violently. Thrashing out. Some of the goons laughed while others stood on Neal's arms. Blood pounded in Peter's ears as they brought out the stretcher again and placed Neal on top before shoving him back into the ambulance and driving away. The last thing Peter remembered was a sharp pain in his arm and looking down to see a dart poking out. And then he to crumpled in a heap.


	11. Chapter 11

**This part does get a little border line M so if you don't like don't read and you don't miss much. Neal is still in captivity. (Starts in Neal's point of view.) So just wanted to give a quick heads up. It's not too bad. Please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

(Peter)

Peter woke in the dust of the parking lot. He coughed, his throat parched and his suit covered in dust. He shivered in the cold his teeth chattering. A ways away, he heard voices, calling in the background. He tried to sit up. His body felt weak and he struggled. He felt hands pulling him, lifting, helping him to sit. He coughed again and spat out dirt into the frozen dusty parking lot. He sat and worked on focusing on Dianna's face. Finally, the world stopped spinning. Peter reached over to his shoulder and pulled out the small dart. He passed it to Dianna.

"Run a test to see if I should be worried about anything." He croaked and graciously gulped at the water Dianna was holding out for him. It was cold. Too cold but Peter didn't mind. His shivers increased and Dianna pulled the bottle away.

"That's enough for now. I don't need you getting sick." He felt something more being draped around his shoulders and looked up to see Jones without a jacket. He smiled his thanks and tried to stand up but Dianna held him back. Forcing him back to a sitting position. He resisted and then relaxed when she passed him the water again. He gratefully gulped more when he heard sirens in the distance. Peter stopped drinking and passed the water back to Dianna, forcing himself to stand.

"No. No hospital. I need to find Neal." He swayed and Dianna clutched his shoulders.

"We will find him. But you are no good to him dead so you need to at least let them do a checkup." Peter swayed more. Despair aching through his chest. Dianna had a point so he stood there dazed as she held him steady. Peter shuddered when the ambulance pulled up exactly where Neal's kidnappers had been.

"Don't make me get in there. Please, I beg you." He whispered. His tremors had begun to resurface but this time there weren't from cold. They were from fear.

(Neal)

Neal sat with his head hanging down. He had no motivation. The pain seared through his body and he welcomed it. Holding it tight because it was the only feel. When the pain was there, he wasn't alone, all alone in the dark. Neal sat there trembling, he was afraid of what was happened and he was afraid of what was coming. He gave in his soul splitting and falling down a dark abyss. He lost the fight inside him. He lost all hope of Peter finding him. Even if he did, he would never be safe. _They_ would always be able to find him. He would never be safe. He knew Peter wouldn't come. He wouldn't risk Neal's life. But either way, Neal was going to die and there was no way to stop it. He could not con his way out of this one.

The door banged open but Neal didn't look up. Footsteps crossed the room. A hand grabbed his chin forcing his head up. The woman stood in front of him. For the first time he noticed her beauty. She had long hair, severely tied back. She was wearing an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt but Neal still thought she looked nicely. Her jeans were speckled in red paint. But as Neal looked closer, he realized it wasn't paint but small drops of blood. His stomach churned but he did not care. His eyes were dull and life had already left them. He was an empty shell.

"This is going to be fun! I had to let my friend there do all the dirty work last time but that was not to be helped. This time is going to be different though!" She giggled and reached back to let her hair down. It swayed back and forth tickling Neal's face but his eyes remained unfocused. She straddled Neal's lap, incredibly close.

"_You_ my dear, are going to do everything I tell you to do Ok?!" She giggled and wiggled on his lap. Neal hesitated and slowly nodded.

"_Good_ boy!" She gushed and leaned forward and Neal felt her lips envelop his in a forceful way that sent a small shiver down Neal's spine and caused his stomach to drop. He did not kiss her back but merely sat there letting her have her way with him.

"Auhhhhhh, Nealy poo! Aren't you enjoying this?" She said pulling away. A pouty lip protruded from her face. Her fingers snaked up his chest. She pulled his new suit jacket off his shoulders. He dropped his gaze, staring at the floor as she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling at his tie as she went. Her lips met his again but this time she forced his mouth open. He shivered as her nails dug down his chest drawing blood. He sat there, tied to the chair with no shirt or jacket to keep the warmth in. He wished she would get on with it and kill him but that wasn't going to happen.

"Oh _Neal_, mmmmmm. I just have such a good idea! Just wait here ok?" Neal sat, unable to move. She stood up. Suddenly pain shot through his shoulder and he cried out. She had grabbed his dislocated arm and pulled.

"_Neeeeaaaalllll_! When I ask you a question you respond!" The pain was still shooting through his arm and she did not let go. Neal sheepishly nodded yes and she smiled reaching down and patting his crotch giving him a slight squeeze before leaving the room.

She came back quickly carrying with here a small video camera.

"Why don't we make a little video documenting our time together?" she gushed setting the tripod up and placing the camera on top.

"Hey! I know what we can do! We can send this to your buddy Peter for him to have some fun as well! Orrrrrrrrrr maybe we could make him part of the cast!" Neal did not say anything. He stared at the floor. A little ray of hope crept into his mind. If she was making this a game, then she'll want Peter play and try to save me. Neal hoped this what she was going for. He wondered what Peter felt about that day he caught Neal in his office. They hadn't talked about it and there was a slight tension between them. He wondered if Peter was still mad about it.

Neal hadn't noticed her turn on the camera but he looked up and she was walking by him, her hand trailing on his arm and she snapped around so she was behind him. He felt something sharp and cold on his throat and she whispered in his ear.

"Smile for the camera." He heard her voice become louder and knew it was directed to Peter, or rather the camera. He heard her saying something but was too busy trying to Morse code to Peter using his eyes to blink the pattern. Suddenly, he felt her move behind him and a searing pain choking him. He bit down on his lip. He looked down to see a knife sticking out of his abdomen. _Crap_. He thought. He tore free from his restraints, ripping skin off his hands as he pulled them out of the cuffs. He clutched the knife and fell off his chair, gasping as an idea formed in his head. He lay flat on his back on the icy concrete floor and heaved a couple of breaths, his body shuddering. He didn't have to fake this part. Slowly, he quickened his breathing into smaller gulps of air and then took one final one and dispelled it slowly, relaxing all the muscles in his body and lolling his head to the side. His captor ran over and he felt her kneel down and check for a pulse. He tried to jump up and stab her with the knife but he was held down. He tried to take in a breath but found he couldn't. He gasped like a fish out of water. She was kneeling on his chest laughing.

"Nealy poo! Don't you already know that you tried that one before? You can't beat me." He heaved trying to get a breath, feeling the room spin from the loss of blood and oxygen. He felt a weight being lifted off of him. He sucked in the air, head pounding and black spots forming in his vision.

"Now you will know what happens when you disobey me." Her once sweet voice had turned hard and cold. Pain rippled across Neal's body and he screamed.


	12. Chapter 12

**This is not a sci-fi or fantasy fic so what will happen to Neal will be explained. Thanks for the love in the comments****! Sounds really cool if you listen to Skyfall by Adele while reading. **

(Peter)

The medics had given Peter a quick exam, and after determining that there was nothing obviously life threatening, health wise, they tried to cajole him into going to the hospital to make 100% sure but Peter fiercely refused and Dianna could only agree because Peter had allowed them to check up. The ambulance parted only from promises by Dianna saying that she would send the substance to the lab and if anything turned up or if Peter's condition worsened that she would bring him in immediately.

Peter handed Dianna her keys back and they got into her car and drove away. Peter expected her to go straight to the office but instead he found himself at his house.

"Dianna, Neal-"

"-Has to wait. You need a shower and a change of clothes. Not to mention a meal." Peter was cut off. "I will call you with any updates. When you finish taking care of yourself you will allowed to return but not a minute before." Peter got out of the car and trudged into the house.

(Dianna)

Dianna's phone rang.

"Hey we just got a package for Peter. Left at security. Nobody got a face. Just got back from scanning. Looks like a tape."

"Ok thanks Jones. Let's let this one fly under the radar for a while. Until Peter comes in later."

"Will do."

Dianna closed the phone and drove back to the office.

(Neal)

Neal lay on the floor where he was left. He flowed in waves, he spread his wings and became a hawk. Soaring over the open prairies. He dove splashing his talons into the salty ocean water. It became black for a second and he was in France. He skirted through the Eiffel Tower and splashed through fountains, over courtyards and exquisite restaurants. He soared to the great wall where Mozzie was walking. He swooped down low in greeting before flying to see Sara walking through the streets of Argentina. And then he saw Peter walking into his house in New York. He called out but only a lonely cry escaped. It keened loudly across the empty streets. Dianna was in the car. Both were frozen. Neal dropped and landed transforming gracefully into his human form.

"Peter!" He called but there was no response. Not even the slightest movement. Peter had his hand stretched out for the door knob. Neal stood in front of him.

"Peter!" He tried again to no avail. "Peter I stayed. I didn't run. I want to stay. Here. In New York." The world spun he felt it turning, beckoning him to leave. "Peter, save me, Peter. I will wait for you. Peter…" The last part was a whisper and he felt his body being pulled away. He again took to the air flying high over the streets of New York. Somebody took his hand. He looked over and saw Kate holding on.

"Be strong Neal." She whispered and they were sent into a cloud and Neal could no longer feel Kate's hand in his.

"Kate!" he screamed but she was already gone and the darkness once again consumed Neal.

(Peter)

Peter had gulped down a sandwich that El made for him and rushed through the shower, putting on a clean suit. He flew out the door, calling a taxi and rushing to work. Once there, he knew that there was something wrong. Everybody was staring at him. He punched the elevator button repeatedly. It seemed like forever before the doors opened and he was void of everybody's stares. He wished the elevator to go faster but it didn't change anything. The doors opened and he burst into the glass room of the White Collar Division. Upon his entering both Jones and Dianna jumped out of their seats.

"Peter… there's something for you." Dianna hesitated before handing him the manila envelope that was unopened. He tore the top. An old DVR slid into his hands. He stared at it knowing what would be on it. _Neal_. A strange feeling washed over him and he headed to his office. An old TV was placed oddly on his desk, waiting for him. He didn't care how it got there. He pushed the tape into the slot and pressed play. Neal was sitting in a chair. Head slumped, eyes staring into the floor and scratches wracking up his bare chest. He looked wrong. Broken. A woman entered the screen, she slid her hand along Neal's side seductively and the CI cringed just a miniscule amount. She turned quickly and a glint of sliver flashed in her hand as she pressed it into Neal's throat.

"Hello, Agent Burke. I think it's time to play. Your baby here needs you." Neal's head snapped up and he was no staring into the camera. Right into Peter's eyes. He was blinking repetitively.

"Why is he doing that?" Dianna asked.

"Morse Code. Somebody get me a piece of paper and a translating guide." Peter ordered.

Peter looked up to see the knife being driven into Neal's stomach. He heard the cry of pain and couldn't take his eyes off the screen as Neal ripped his hands out from behind him and fell to the floor writhing in pain. Peter watched as his CI struggled for a breath and then became still. He stared waiting for the telltale sign of Neal's chest rising but it just seemed to keep dropping, his body seaming to melt into the floor. Blood was pooling quickly and the woman knelt down trying to find a pulse. He saw Neal's hand go to his stomach where the knife was still impaled in his body. He realized what Neal was doing and urged Neal not to do it. In one fluid motion, the woman was on top of him and Neal was pinned. His stomach was bleeding much more profusely now and Peter saw blood pooling in Neal's mouth. That wasn't good. In fact that was really bad. He saw Neal struggle to take in a breath, his face turning purple before the woman stood, releasing the pressure on the younger man's rib cage. Neal sucked in air, looking like a fish. Peter heard the woman say something and had to turn the sound way up to hear it.

"Now you will know what happens when you disobey me." Peter's stomach churned and he gasped and looked away as the whip fell on Neal over and over. He could still hear the screams and the crack of the whip and they scarred his mind. Then everything was quiet.

"Goodbye Agent Burke. Time is running out."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13. The unlucky one. So it's short.**

(Neal)

Neal tentatively opened his eyes hoping that The Woman was not standing over him. He moaned and spat blood. It was cold and the floor underneath him felt like ice. He shivered and tried to sit up. But found he was again tied down. But this time not to a chair. He picked his head up and found that the room he was in was small and there was ice forming all around making it white and sparkly. He found that if he maneuvered right he could reach out and touch the walls with his hands. The ceiling was about a foot over his face. How he was put in here he had no idea because there was no door way. His teeth started to chatter, his whole body was wracked in spasms from the pain and cold. His breath came in clouds and it condensed on his face with crystals of ice. He felt panic rising in his throat as the light shut off. _I'm not afraid of the dark_. He tried to reassure himself over and over. He heard a scrapping noise and the lights flooded back only to Neal's dismay. The room had somehow become even smaller and there was air being blown in. It was getting colder by the minute. _Oh god, Peter, please find me fast_.

(Peter)

Peter replayed the tape, writing down the letters that Neal was blinking.

**I'm sorry Peter. Don't play the game. Gabi Blutrünstig.**

Peter froze. Dianna who was looking over her shoulder hitched in a breath.

"Blutrünstig as in _The Blutrünstigs_?"Peter did not reply as he was already typing the name into the computer.

"There are no hits for that exact name. But we should assume that they are _The_ Blutrünstig family." Jones was standing in the back of the room looking confused.

"A giant mob family from Germany. They were involved in one of the first cases Neal and I worked together. Neal has received endless hate mail from friends and family. But nothing has ever panned out to be a legitimate threat. I can't imagine now. Two years later that they would decide to punish Neal."

"Uhhh, Boss, Elmar Blutrünstig was killed in prison about the same time Neal went missing for the first time. Apparently somebody was an assassin for hire in the prison you sent him to. His death was ruled a homicide but is still under investigation."

"Ok, gather everything you can on the Blutrünstig family. I want to know of all properties in this country and alert German authorities. Find anything that connects this Gabi Blutrünstig to Elmar. Brother, sister, cousin, anything. We need license plate numbers, house numbers and any gun registrations." Suddenly Peter's office was empty of people and he sat down at his desk, rewinding the tape. He had to find some clue, something, and anything to find Neal. What did Neal mean by _I'm sorry Peter_?

(Neal)

Neal tried to curl up even tighter into a ball but he was held to the ground by the restraints. They went through holes in the floor so there was no way Neal could pick his way out. The room seemed to grow smaller each time the lights flashed out. Neal's body had begun to shake violently what seemed like hours ago and he wondered how long he would survive from the cold, if not from the loss of blood. He felt like a shell again. All hopes of Peter finding him had dissipated with the entry into the hell box. How would Peter ever find him here?

Neal lay there, still as a stone. He heard voices, no not hallucinations, this was the end. He was close to the end. Neal allowed himself to relax, welcoming the feeling, ready to die. The voices became louder.

_Come on I am trying to die peacefully here. Can't you please be quiet?_

"FBI!" he heard the voices calling, closer still.

_This just isn't funny._

There were footsteps right outside his box... Neal shuffled a little. The lights went out again and Neal felt the walls tighten even more. He cried out, unable to move, ice on the wall was pressing against his skin. His chest was constricting, heart beat rapid and weak. He barely had room to breathe and the lights hadn't come back on yet.

"In here!" A voice yelled and more footsteps.

"Neal?" a voice called to him. It was a friendly voice. He knew that voice. _Peter_. He tried to answer but was unable to gather enough air or energy. He was fading fast. _In here Peter. I'm trapped in here! _Neal screamed with his mind. And the walls moved again. Neal couldn't breathe. He didn't have enough energy to or enough space to. Then he hear a loud bang of metal on metal and light streamed into the darkness. He sucked in the air, gulping.

"Neal." The voice was flooded with relief. "No, Neal no, stay with me, No-" Neal succumbed to the darkness, held in Peter's arms. Safe for the moment.


	14. Chapter 14

(Peter)

Peter paced the waiting room of the ER. Neal had barely made it to the hospital.

_The bloody and crippled body was almost unrecognizable as a person as Peter knelt and pulled it up, out of the small opening in the floor. It was incredibly light and felt more like ice than flesh. Relief flooded his body as the familiar blue eyes open and looked right at Peter._

_ "Neal." Peter saw the man start to fade, the eyes fogging over and drooping. "No. Neal, no. You have to stay awake. No Neal!" He silently cursed and watched as Neal's body became limp, his head lolling into Peter's chest. Peter instinctively placed two fingers on Neal's neck to check for a pulse. There was no movement._

_ "When are those medics going to get here?" Peter screamed. They were right behind him and he watched as they pulled out paddles and shocked Neal's body. No response. Again Neal's body lurched off the concrete. No response. _

_ "Charge 300!" Finally Neal's heart began to beat with a slight, almost undetectable beat and they loaded him into the ambulance._

Peter ran his hand through his hair. _This was Neal. He was strong. He would make it. He can do anything._ Neal heard the door to the private room the hospital had graciously given him. El made her way quickly across the room, not saying anything but pulling Peter into a tight embrace. He relaxed into her arms.

_The room was barely long enough to fit a man, and the width made Peter cringe as he looked down into Neal's imprisonment. Almost every area in the pit was covered in blood. Peter watched as the lights in the pit went off and the walls became even smaller. Then Peter understood. It was made to crush Neal, suffocate him. Peter cringed thinking what his CI had been through. This was all his fault. If he hadn't lost his temper with Neal, Neal wouldn't have left that day. He should've brought Neal home when he noticed something was wrong. Neal was his responsibility and he had let him down._

The door opened again and this time June and Dianna walked in and sat down across from El and Peter. The room was terse and quiet for a few hours. No one daring to say anything. Peter stood up and started to pace again. El pulled him back down and he sat, staring into nothingness. Peter stood up again an hour later and started his pacing ritual.

"Hon, please sit down."

"It's been seven hours El. I can't sit down and wait any longer. It shouldn't take this long. There's something wrong." Peter wracked his hand through his hair for the millionth time.

"You need to let them do their job, Hon." El tried to sooth her husband but she found herself feeling the same way. Another hour passed and finally the door opened and a surgeon appeared. The entire group stood, holding their breath.

"Neal is out of surgery. Barely but seems to be stable for now. Next 48 hours will really tell." The surgeon's face was grim.

"Can we see him?" Peter didn't hesitate to ask the question.

"Due to the hypothermia and severe blood loss, Mr. Caffrey is comatose. He also seems to have trace amounts of arsenic poison in his blood which also concerns us. He is in the ICU and will remain there for some time. We cannot pin point exactly when Mr. Caffrey will wake up, if ever. Some of the lesser concerns are a few broken ribs. We have no way to tell exactly how much brain damage Mr. Caffrey has received and that will be assessed when he wakes up. As for psychologically, no one here is qualified to say, but guesses are that the man will have serious psychological issues." Peter slid down in his chair. Not bother to ask again if he could see Neal. Thankfully the doctor remembered his question.

"With all this in mind, I don't see any reason why you cannot see Mr. Caffrey. We always find that patients in this state benefit from visitors and knowing they are not alone. Please be conscious to limit the number of people to one in the room at a time. You need to stay out of the way if anything were to happen." Peter jumped to his feet. The doctor, still in scrubs from the operation led the way to Neal's room. Peter stood in the doorway looking through the glass door, allowing June and El to take their turns visiting with Neal. Then Peter went in and sat next to Neal's bed. The younger man was ghostly white and tubes ran in and out of his mouth. Peter concentrated on the rising and falling of his chest to calm his nerves. He sat there for what amounted to hours, not moving, not saying anything, but it only seemed like minutes. He only looked up when a nurse brought in a cot and blankets.

"Thought you might want to stay here tonight. The doctor's fine with it. Thinks that it will help Neal if he is not alone." Peter vaguely nodded.

"Your wife told me to give you these." She handed Peter sweat pants and a T-shirt.

"Is she still here?" Peter asked confused.

"I told them to go home and said that we would call if anything changed. I promised we would take good care of you to." She paused and reached behind her. She produced a tray of food. "That starts with eating." Peter didn't feel hungry, in fact he didn't feel much of anything.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"If you don't eat everything, then you won't be able to stay." She half scolded him, reading his mind. Peter reached out to take the tray.

"I'll try." But then Neal's heart monitor began to beep faster. The nurse ran forward pressing the alarm button. She pressed a button on the bed and it flattened out just as Neal flat lined. Amidst the chaos, Peter was sent out of the room, his soup flying off his lap forgotten.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for all the awesome reviews! They make me sooooooooooo happy. I promise not to kill Neal, although I kind of already did BUT NOT PERMENENTLY! And that is all that counts! Let me know what you think because reviews are so addicting!**

(Peter)

Peter paced the hospital waiting room again. He hadn't bothered to call El or June. There was no need for them to drive all the way back to the hospital. Still a small voice in his head kept pestering him. _What if he dies?_ Finally the doctor entered the waiting room and beckoned Peter over.

"Mr. Caffrey is in serious condition as you may have witnessed. We did a preliminary scan to see if there was any more damage that we might have missed, but there was no evidence of anything. Sometimes in cases like this, there is nothing we can do but wait. There will be a Nurse stationed right outside the door at all times for the next few days. Although I am not a psychologist and am therefore not certified to say this, I think it would be best if you made your presence known to Mr. Caffrey anytime you are there. Due to the information I have gathered his was in solitary confinement for some time. You may also want to prepare yourself for what might come." Peter swayed at the last words of the Doctor. _Prepare yourself for what might come_? Peter turned and walked back into Neal's room. A new warm bowl of soup was on the table and the nurse from before was standing over Neal taking notes on a clip board. When Peter walked in, she gave him a sad smile before rearranging the pillows behind Neal.

"You need to eat Agent Burke." Her voice was soft and firm so Peter sat and picked up the spoon in a daze. He didn't realize he was eating until a hand touched his, startling him.

"It's all done, you can stop now." The nurse stood over him again looking sad. "I'm leaving now but I will be stationed outside the door if you need anything." She turned and left closing the glass door behind her taking his empty tray with her. Peter stood up and moved closer to Neal. He hesitated and picked up his hand.

"I know you probably can't hear me now Neal, if you could you would probably have some half ass remark about how foolish this is. But I just need you to come back to us now. You're safe, I won't let anybody hurt you." Peter's eyes started to droop and he laid his head down on Neal's bed and promptly fell asleep.

Peter felt cold. There was a hard surface under him, his eyes felt like sandpaper and he groaned. He must have fell on the floor after he fell asleep. There were voices all around him. Someone was calling his name. A cold hand touched his cheek. He felt somebody pulling his eyelids up and flashing a light in them. He recoiled from the sudden glare. There were hands and he felt himself being lifted. He forced his eyes open. _What was happening_? He again tried to force his eyes open. Lights flashed over him. He turned confused to find himself in the same kind of bed Neal was in. He panicked think of the fake ambulance that Neal was taking in. He tried to sit up, but there were hands pushing him back down. He heard a voice in the chaos that he recognized.

"Peter! Peter stop it! _Please_. Just lay back down. Let them do their job." El. Peter found her face through the chaos. His hand reached out and hers filled the gap. He held on tightly, confused.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" a voice called to him and he turned to look. His breath came in gasps. There was so much commotion, so many people. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He scanned the room. So many people.

"EVERYBODY OUT!" He heard the doctor command, and the scurrying that resulted told Peter that it was ok to open his eyes. He felt El tug on his hand and he held in tighter, not wanting her to leave him alone.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" The Doctor inquired again.

"Two." Peter croaked.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"What is your name?"

"Peter Burke."

"Good. Now, Agent Burke can you remember what happened?"

"I fell asleep. Next to Neal. Must've fell." The doctor was taking notes and El squeezed his hand supporting. "I really could use some water." Peter spoke, his voice scratchy.

"We will connect you to a saline drip. But I cannot allow you to eat or drink anything for at least twenty-four hours." Peter inwardly groaned. "We have to run some tests now. We are going to do a blood test to make sure that you have not ingested anything. Possibly run a cat-scan to be safe."

"Why do you need that? I just fell asleep." The doctor looked up. El squeezed his hand.

"Your wife informed me that you were injected with some sort of sedative. How long ago was that?" Peter sputtered at the change in topic.

"Five or six days ago now. Why?" Peter just realized that the tests Dianna sent down to the lab had not come back yet.

"Well we want to be safe but if it is the substance you were injected with, that could have caused you to pass out even five days later. And that would indicate that it was a drug that had a quick release and a longer, lasting effect." Peter felt El gasp and squeeze his hand tighter.

"What about Neal?"

"Technically you shouldn't be in the ICU but since I think it is worse to separate the two of you, due to the trauma, I think we can make an exception." Peter visibly relaxed.

After a nurse came in and took blood from Peter and inserted a IV, they moved him into Neal's room. Dianna and Jones were sitting with Neal and jumped up with a start when Peter was reeled in.

"Peter what happened!" Dianna exclaimed, worry lacing her voice. To her dismay Peter had already fallen into a deep sleep. She turned to El, who had worry all over her face.

"This morning I came to visit Neal and found Peter, crumpled on the floor. He didn't wake up so I called the nurse. They think it might be the substance on the dart.

"Oh El. I sent the evidence to the lab but it takes a week for them to process much. I'm so sorry." Dianna gushed sympathy.

"It's not your fault. They think he will probably be ok." A noise from behind them made both El and Dianna wheel around. Neal was trying no move. El found herself immediately next to him.

"Neal? Neal I need you to stay still ok?" A shudder was the only response. Neal's whole body was shaking.

"c-c-c-coooollld." Neal chattered through his teeth. El placed more blankets on top of him, pressing the call button as she did so. Two blue eyes opened. They searched the room.

"p-p-p-p-peeth'r." The hoarse voice slurred. His gaze came no rest on the hospital bed beside him and the still figure occupying it.

"n-n-no…p-p-p-peth'r" Neal's heart monitor let out a loud warning beep before Neal's heart rate quickened.

"shhhhhhhhhhhh he's ok Neal, just a little over tired." Ell tried to sooth him, but his eyes were large and his breath came in gasps.

"g-g-g-good-d-d." His eyes were flicking around the room and fear marred his face. And he dropped into unconsciousness again as the doctor walked into the room.


	16. Chapter 16

**So Neal is still in a comatose state so I don't think there will be anything from his point of view in this chapter. Sorry. Tell me in the reviews if you want it and I can redo the chapter…**

**Thanks for all your lovely reviews! They give me more incentive to keep writing! So the more reviews and followers I get, the faster I update! Buahaha I so mean!**

**And you only said I couldn't kill Neal, you never said I couldn't kill Peter….**

(Peter)

Peter woke again, this time with a pounding headache. He rolled over confused, then he remembered. His throat felt scratchy and dry, his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth and his eyes were dry and burning. El was sitting in between him and Neal, holding his hand. She looked up when felt him stir.

"Hey hon, how are you feeling?"

"Need water." He croaked, trying not to cough.

"The doctor said no, hon." Her voice was strong but it wavered a bit and Peter knew she was close to giving in.

"Please." Peter's throat stung when he talked. "I _need_ water." El wavered and then walked outside for a minute. Peter tried to relax, but suddenly there was a stabbing pain in his abdomen. He moaned and doubled over. El and a nurse ran in.

"Peter! Peter are you ok?" El looked so worried. Peter tried to respond but only managed a hiss through his teeth. His face was grey and a sheen of sweat appeared. He moaned again, leaned into the basin the nurse had placed in front of him, a promptly expelled all of his stomach contents. The nurse looked increasingly worried and she ran out to get the doctor. When Peter uncurled himself, his head swam and for a minute he thought he was going to pass out.

The doctor was pushing his shoulders back into the bed. Again the flashlight was shone in his eyes.

"Did the blood test come back yet?" he asked the nurse. She muttered something and again ran out the door. To Peter, he asked, "How exactly are you feeling?"

"My eyes burn and my throat is killing me. I have this-"Peter had to swallow the bile forming in his throat. "This severe pain in my stomach and it's getting harder to breathe. And I threw up." He rasped gasping for breath. The nurse ran back in.

"Preliminary blood tests show a heightened pH in the blood. The extensive tests haven't come back yet though." The doctor pulled out a sphygmometer and wrapped in around Peter's arm. "BP is dangerously low. 115/50. Start a morphine flow and we are going to have to do a Bronchoscopy and an Endoscopy. At this point I am thinking Chlorine poisoning. Let's try to catch this before it does too much damage." Peter felt El grab his hand.

"What does all that mean?" she asked, fear marring her voice.

"I am guessing at this point that the drug was laced with amounts of chlorine. We will know for sure when the extensive lab tests get back. I am going to proceed as if this is the problem. To make sure that we are not missing anything, we have to run a camera down his throat into his stomach and esophagus we also need to send a camera into his throat and lungs to make sure there are no burns or fluid buildup. If there is any burns, we will have to surgically remove them. But because Peter was not inhaling the chlorine, then I doubt that there will be serious burns in his throat. Due to the chlorine, his blood has changed in its pH and is now dropping drastically in pressure. We are going to hook him up to another saline solution to try and keep it up to normal. We will also connect him morphine and a light sedative to take away the abdominal pain and discomfort from the tests." El visibly cringed and squeezed Peter's hand as another wave of nausea washed over him and he threw up more.

"How about that water." He hissed through his teeth.

"I'm sorry, the chlorine in your system will react with the water and form hydrochloric and hypochlorous acids. This will cause more damage to your entire body, your organs will fail and you will die. I cannot let you drink any water." Peter moaned again and leaned back over the basin. El soothed back his hair and made small circles on his back. He sat back a little too fast and felt the dizziness over taking him. He moaned and then collapsed back on the bed. He shifted his head back and forth, trying to get the sensation to go away. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Finally his whole body relaxed as they released morphine into his blood stream. His eyes opened but they were glazed over. He closed them again and passed out.

**Haha just kidding I am not going to kill Peter…Sorry this chapter is so short… will update soon **** REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW POR FAVOR!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I know I said I wouldn't update until this weekend but I felt so bad that I decided to make time. So you can wait and read this, this weekend! Haha I didn't think so. And yes I did just make you respond in my head because yes I am a freak like that****. And yes I am proud of it****. **

(Peter)

Peter woke again, this time though he felt so much better. All the pain was gone and he did not feel like he was going to shrivel up anytime soon. He looked over to see El sleeping on the couch, looking very innocent. He decided not to wake her and he turned his head to look at Neal. His face was incredibly white and his frame even smaller than when Peter had found him. He grimaced, and tried to tear his eyes away but suddenly he was back, standing over Neal, _who was bloody and mutilated on the table before him. He watched as Neal opened his mouth and rasped out,_

_ "Help Me." Before convulsing in a fit, which Peter could not help him. He watched as Neal held the gun out, shot and hit the woman. It was like slow motion as Neal's body fell, bloody pooling. Peter screamed his name, but Neal did not seem to hear. Peter tried to run forward, he had to do something but somebody was holding him back. He was there. The man that had kidnapped Neal. The one who was presumed dead. Peter thrashed against the strong grip. Felt a cold hand on his and he looked up to see a man there he did not recognize. El appeared next to him._

"El…" he whispered barely audible. El and the doctor were peering at him, talking to him but he turned his head away to look at Neal. He saw the scars covering the once perfect skin. But Peter relaxed. Neal was safe. Neal was here. Neal was good.

Peter turned back to what the doctor was saying.

"Agent Burke. Can you follow my finger? Agent Burke." Peter turned and nodded, proceeding with the tests the doctor wanted him to do. El was gripping his hand and he rubbed hers, reassuring her that he was ok.

"It seems as if Agent Burke has responded to treatments very well. I would like to keep an eye on you for a little longer to make sure that all the chlorine has passed completely though your system. But I think that you should be out of here by tonight." Peter smiled and before the question was out of his lips, the doctor replied.

"And yes you can have some water." El held up the cup with the straw and drank graciously.

NEXT DAY

Peter sat with Neal, happy to be with him but not happy to still be in the hospital. He had greatly improved since the night he was emitted, apparently four nights ago, and had been released but had never actually left the hospital save for getting a hot shower and change of clothes. Neal had still remained comatose but El had informed him that once, he was awake and asking for Peter before falling back into the clutches of comatose limbo. Peter was scared, he would never admit it, but the way Neal had not moved for a week now, scared him. He depended on the younger man to keep everything ok. The pale frame was so small now, Peter missed Caffrey's normal state of thinness which he usually thought was a little too model-ish. He reached out to move one of the always perfect curls out of his companion's face when a movement caught his eye. His hand recoiled into his lap.

"Neal?" He spoke the word feeling excessively stupid and glad that El had gone home for a while. Now he was calling to a person who was in a coma. After a few minutes, he decided that he had just imagined the movement. Wishful thinking. A small moan a few moments later jerked Peter out of his thoughts. He glanced up quickly, not fully understanding what he had heard. Again it came, this time, Neal's chest hitched and he jerked against all the equipment that was keeping him alive. Peter jumped out of his chair, placing his hands on Neal's arms and shoulders so he could not move. Neal continued to rasp trying to breath around the tubes that were down his throat. His face was turning blue with the lack of oxygen and Peter silently swore.

"Neal. Neal, listen to me, you need to stop struggling, and you need to breathe." Peter tried to soothe him and pressed the call button. Neal's eyes flew open at the sound of Peter's voice and confusion marred his face and then fear.

"Breathe Neal, the machine is helping you." Two nurses and the doctor came flying into the room.

"Ok we need to stop the intubation right now." Hands pulled Peter away from Neal and he lost sight of him in the swarm of people that were coming into the room. He decided to step outside and call El and June. After he made the calls, he slid his phone back into his pocket and patiently waited for the doctor to come out. After about ten minutes, the doctor pocked his head out and told Peter he could come back inside. But what happened next shocked Peter, chilled him to the bone even.

(Neal)

Pain spiked through Neal's consciousness. It was the first thing he had felt in days. He felt the presence of somebody in the room. It was comforting. He felt something brush his forehead and tried to lift his hand to brush it away. _Pesky flies_ he thought. But his hand never made it off the bed. In fact he could barely move his fingers.

"Neal?" somebody called his name. Peter. He didn't know why it was so dark. Why couldn't he move his hands to touch his face? Why couldn't he open his eyes? Pain overwhelmed him again and he moaned softly. He tried to breathe, but couldn't. He struggled. Something was clogging his throat. Why wasn't anybody helping him? Why wasn't Peter helping him? His lungs burned and his head pounded. He heard a voice over him and forced his eyes open. It was hard but he forced himself to. At first, the black dots threatened to overcome him but he held on. He could make out a form over him, Peter. But Peter was holding him down. Why wasn't he helping Neal breathe?! Neal's slow mind came to the conclusion. Peter was trying to kill him.

**I KNOW I KNOW IT'S SO SHORT! I PROMISE TO UPDATE THIS WEEKEND AGAIN. I hope. Will try my best. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! **


	18. Chapter 18

(Peter)

Peter stepped into the room. Neal was laying, surrounding by doctors. The doctor that had retrieved Peter returned to his place in the circle but left a gap open for Peter. There was a soft hub-bub in the room as people were asking Neal questions but when Peter finally made it to where he could see Neal, the room went quiet. Something felt off to Peter but he placed it on nerves. He looked up to meet Neal's eyes. He watched as the con-man's face paled and the heart monitor beeped furiously.

"No. No he can't be in here. Please. Don't let him-"Neal was cut off by an oxygen mask being placed over his nose and mouth and a high level of commotion. A doctor took Peter by the arm and led him out of the room.

"You need to stay here for a while." The voice was gentle and sympathetic but stern and not up for any debate. Peter ran his hand through his hair again, wishing El was there, helping to console both him and Neal. Neal. _What the hell was going on with him_? After a while Peter went back into Neal's room and sat. The doctors had told him Neal thought that Peter was trying to kill him. SO Peter talked to him and they made it all better and yada yada yada this story is losing steam and I don't know what to write so they lived happily ever after…THE END…


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